


Say It Now

by artsypolarbear



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5434025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsypolarbear/pseuds/artsypolarbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica comes home, intending on finally telling Trish how she feels, only to find her missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't be afraid to like or comment, any feedback is precious to me :)

The officer in front of her seemed to have an endless stack of papers to stamp and sign. Aside from the shuffling of papers and the tick of the clock it was eerily silent in the police station. Outside the office, there were two other officers playing catch with an apple. It was a quiet day.

"These are the last."

Jessica, who had grown more and more frustrated by each passing minute, scribbled away with such force that she almost punctured the paper.

And then she was free. A few stamps, a pat on the back, and Jessica Jones was no longer guilty of murdering Zebediah Kilgrave. Legally speaking, anyway.

She walked out of the station, not looking back or slowing her steps. Instinctively, her hand drew out her phone and she dialled the only number she had saved.

 _I love you_.

The call went straight to voicemail.

 _Huh, that’s odd,_ Jessica thought to herself as her fingers quickly typed and shot a text to Trish, demanding and confused in tone: _Why won’t you pick up?_

As she made her way towards a nearby metro station, she thought about all the possible reasons as to why Trish wouldn’t pick up. Most likely her phone was dead. Or perhaps she hadn’t heard it. Maybe she’d turned it off because she was recording.

Jessica breathed deeply, only now truly realising the reality of her situation. She was _free._ Kilgrave was dead. Everything was as it had been before except upturned and mixed and completely not what it used to be.

Upon seeing Trish’s apartment building, Jessica’s heart made a tiny excited leap which she herself had not anticipated. It had been so long since she’d truly had peace of mind, let alone been anywhere near being happy. Now she was just mere minutes away from Trish, from rest, from joy.

She knew Trish couldn’t be recording today, because it was Saturday. Saturday was the day Trish stayed at home and did absolutely nothing. Jessica could still remember vividly all the Saturdays she and Trish had spent together in that flat, watching TV and talking and eating pizza and just having fun.

She sighed heavily as she stepped into the elevator. There were butterflies in her stomach, which was an unfamiliar feeling for Jessica. They made her feel dizzy and nauseous.

 _I love you_.

As the elevator raced towards Trish’s floor, Jessica came to the harrowing realization that the blonde could be lying in wait with a surprise party. It would _totally_ be something Trish would do, and it would be _totally_ hated by Jessica.

But when she reached her door, she knew something was wrong.

The door was ever-so-slightly open, and Jessica carefully pushed it open and stepped inside.

Inside, instead of a surprise party, her worst nightmare lay in wait. The apartment was trashed, as though there had been a fight. There were chairs on the floor, papers and shattered glass scattered on the white kitchen floor. Some droplets of bright red, evidently blood, were splattered on the tiles, making the nausea in Jessica’s stomach all too real. Trish’s phone, still in it’s pink case, was completely destroyed because someone had shot at it – the bullet was still embedded in it. There were some bullets in the walls, too.

 _“_ Trish?!” She yelled, but her voice only echoed in the empty apartment. She rushed through all the rooms, praying to every god and divine power known to man that Trish would jump out and tell her it was all just a joke.

She didn’t.

Jessica felt sick. She could taste blood and vomit in her mouth, and all of a sudden the room began spinning and she slumped down against the wall. It was all she could do to pull out her phone and dial 911. When the police arrived, she wasn’t surprised to find that there were tears streaking her face.

 _I love you_.

She was no use to the police so they sent her away. Or tried to, anyway. Jessica insisted on looking around one more time, for any clue of what had happened. Yesterday’s morning paper was spread on the table, the dishes were not done. The knowledge that she might’ve been able to do something hit Jessica like a punch – if only she had been there a few hours earlier. If only that stack of papers hadn’t been that high. If only she’d taken the cab instead of the metro. The list was endless.

_I should’ve noticed something was wrong._

“Ma’am? I need you to come with me back to the station.”

Jessica followed silently, not believing that any of it was happening. The whole ride back to the station the only thing she could think of was Trish. How scared she must be, whether she was hurt - if she was even alive.

_No, she has to be alive._

She felt another sob creep it’s way up her throat and choked it down, releasing a trembling breath as she fought back the tears. _Not now,_ she thought _, you have to be strong for Trish. You can’t help her if you’re crying._

As she was led into a room for questioning at the station, they passed the officer who had released her only hours prior. A look of shock spread across his face as he recognized her. Jessica knew he thought she’d already committed a crime. If only he knew.

The questions they asked were redundant and pointless. They went on for what felt like hours, asking about Trish and her life and her finances and her job and her mother and her and Jessica and everything but the essential questions.

It was only when they were wrapping up that an officer popped his head into the room.

“Sir, we got a DNA match for the blood.”

“And?” Asked the detective, sounding as bored as ever.

The officer stepped in and handed the detective a file. “Justin Cruello.”

Jessica propped up in her chair, imprinting the name into her memory. “Can I go now?”

The detective waved his hand. “Sure, whatever.”

The instant Jessica was out of the station she was into PI-mode. Within moments she had figured out Justin Cruello – he was a lowlife thug, with connections to the mafia and other sketchy and likely dangerous parts of society.

She also quickly figured out that although he had a normal address, there was a warehouse rented out in the name of a Ms. Justina Cruello – which was odd, considering Mr. Cruello had no living sisters, nor did he have a wife.

However, when she called the police, she was shut down. According to law enforcement, she was chasing a red herring – Trish’s kidnapping obviously had to do with Cruello’s drug affiliations, which they were fine investigating on their own.

So she decided that she, too, was fine investigating on her own.


	2. 2

As Jessica headed to the warehouse, Trish had awoken to her worst nightmare.

The first thing she tasted was blood - the tangy iron flooded her senses, and she awoke with a start. The second thing she tasted was the disgusting combination of oil, sweat and dirt which covered the rag that gagged her. Panic set in, and she tried to scream, only to have her voice muffled by the gag almost completely.

She was restrained too – her wrists were handcuffed to a pipe above her head, forcing her to stand and stay put. Her arms hurt, the gash on her thigh throbbed and the gunshot wound to her shoulder literally felt like it was on fire. The pain was so great that she felt tears welling up in her eyes and trickling down her cheeks. On top of this, she felt incredibly woozy. Her head swam in a mist she hadn't revisited in years, and the feeling of being high was anything but welcome.

“Aww…crying, are we?”

Chills ran down her spine as Trish noticed the three men seated a few feet away from her. The one who had spoken rose, a wide grin spreading across his face as he made his way toward her. He was tall and buff – a white man, with tattoos covering his arms and legs and a bald head and the most disgusting face she had ever seen.

“What’s the matter, baby? Don’t you like this?” He snarled, running his finger up her side and to her throat, which he wrapped his fingers around. “What’s the matter, _Patsy?_ Don’t you wanna be my _friend?”_ His voice was mocking, dripping with poison and anger. His friends laughed at his 'joke', their laughter echoing in the empty cellar. Looking down, Trish noticed the bloody bandage on his arm, and grinned in her mind when she realised she was it's cause.

 His fingers began closing around her throat and Trish found herself unable to breathe. She struggled against the restraints, gasping for air, but the man only chuckled as she felt herself start to become faint from the lack of air.

One of the two men yelled out. “Justin, don’t kill her. They want her alive.”

It was only when she was about to faint that he let go of her throat, and she gasped for air as he proceeded to snicker to himself.

“You don’t know why you’re here, do you?”

Trish didn’t dare look up at him. The terror ran through her veins, making her unable to move or even breathe.

He slapped her and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “Answer me!”

Trish’s cries were muffled by the gag as she shook her head, her whole body shaking from fear and pain. The two other men proceeded to watch silently, their faces expressionless like those of statues. One of them had a beer in his hand – the other was twirling a gun in his hand, causing yet another shudder to run through her body.

Her tormentor pulled out a knife and began running it’s tip along her skin. Trish tensed as she felt the sharp, cool tip touch her skin. She screamed of pain as the man pushed the knife into her skin, cutting a line from her knee to her hip. The pain was almost enough to make her faint, but the man, realising this, punched her to keep her awake.

“You see, _Patsy_ , we were actually hired to do this. You’ve pissed off somepretty important people with your nosing around. And they hired us to, well…deliver you.”

His breath stank. His teeth were yellow and probably rotten, and were it not for the gag and lack of stomach contents, Trish would have certainly vomited. He kissed her on her lips, on top of the gag, and in that moment she wanted to die. It was all too much like the events at the docks. Everything she never wanted to have to remember.

_Jessica_.

The sudden memory of Jessica brought Trish back to reality, and she head-butted the man. A roar of laughter erupted from the two other men as he fell back, cursing.

“You bitch!” He yelled, springing up from the ground with the knife in his hand. “Now you really did it. I was going to play with you a bit, but clearly we need to teach you some _manners_ first.”

\--

_I love you_.

Jessica ran most of the way to the warehouse. It was at the farthest end of the warehouse district, completely isolated and the perfect place for sketchy business. The door, of course, was locked, but that was no problem for her. The chains snapped like twigs underneath her grasp as she forced her way in.

At first glance, the warehouse was empty. There wasn’t much of anything anywhere – some boxes were scattered about, and there was the wreck of a car in one corner. She sighed, feeling defeated and almost left.

All it took was one muffled scream and Jessica knew Trish was there. She ran to the other end of the warehouse, and found a staircase hidden behind some boxes which led down into a basement. Muffled cries and screams echoed in the walls as she ran towards their source, fear and disgust bellowing inside her chest.

She burst into the room with such force that the door actually flew off it’s hinges halfway across it’s length. At the end of the room were three men, and in their midst was Trish. The sight of Trish would have been enough to make Jessica cry, but instead she felt an uncontrollable rage build up inside her. Her blood boiled in her veins, and for a moment she wanted them dead.

Before the men could even properly realise it, they were all propelled away from Trish. One of them flew against the wall and did not get up. The two others scrambled to get to their guns, but Jessica got to them first. She tried her best to not kill them. She really did. But she also made sure to inflict as much pain on them as possible.

The situation was over as quick as it had began. Jessica turned to Trish and felt her entire soul crumble to pieces as she saw the state she was in.

There were bloody cuts on her arms and legs, a red, an angry bruise around her neck – a gunshot wound to her shoulder, and countless bruises and abrasions to her skin. Her shirt had been cut off,  and her abdomen was carved full of cuts and stabs.

She was crying, horrible, pained sobs being muffled by the gag. The floor beneath her was stained with her blood; her face, grimy and splattered with blood, was streaked with tears.

Jessica hurried over and untied the gag first, then ripped the pipe in half, freeing Trish’s hands. She then roughly grabbed Trish’s face with both hands and looked deep into her eyes. “Are you okay?" It was such a bizarre thing to ask, considering the way Trish looked. Nevertheless, Jessica felt like she should say something.

Trish only sobbed in response as Jessica snapped the handcuffs in half.

“Trish, please, did they….? Because I will kill them if they did.” Jessica spoke hurriedly, her face only inches from Trish’s.

“No..” Trish whimpered, tears wetting her cheeks. “No, they didn’t do…that.” And with that, she collapsed into Jessica’s arms a sobbing, trembling mess. Her arms wrapped tightly around Jessica, as though she feared that if she let go she’d disappear. “You can’t kill them, because you’ll go to jail and you can’t ever leave me again.”

Jessica felt a sob breaking through her chest and tried to choke it down. A tiny sob broke through, however, and it was all she could do to not begin crying. She gathered Trish into her arms and hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and out onto the street, only one thought echoing in her mind.

_I love you_.

But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Frankly, she was afraid that if she opened her mouth only sobs and cries would come out. And she couldn’t afford that, not now.

She noticed Trish had gone limp in her arms and her heart stopped. Gently laying her down onto the ground, she pulled out her phone and dialled 911, all the while keeping her hand on Trish’s healthy shoulder.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance at 213 Wilmore Road. And police. My friend is hurt.”

“Alright, the dispatch is on their way. Can you tell me your name?”

“Jessica Jones.”

“And your friend?”

“Trish Walker. She was reported missing yesterday. I found her. And her kidnappers.”

“Is it safe to stay where you are?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then stay where you are. The ambulance should arrive in a few minutes. Don’t hang up. Is your friend awake?”

“No.” Jessica sobbed. “I tried to keep her awake but I couldn’t-“

_I love you_.

The ambulance came in due time, and the whole way to the hospital Jessica dared not even breathe. Despite the paramedic’s reassurances that her injuries were not fatal, Jessica still felt as though her whole world was crumbling down because of the blonde woman who lay before her.

She was taken into surgery immediately, and the next hours were a haze. Jessica spent them answering police questions and pacing around the hospital’s waiting room, feeling trapped and frustrated and more terrified than ever before in her life. She couldn’t afford another loss, let alone Trish. 

Three hours later, a doctor came and told her that Trish was fine and was expected to heal completely.

“Where is she?” Were the first words that Jessica spoke.

“I’ll take you to her.” The doctor smiled gently and gestured for Jess to follow. “She’s asleep, but she should wake in due time.”

“How long will she stay here?”

“Well, I’d say she could go home tomorrow – she has no severe internal injuries, and all she really needs is rest. Her shoulder, of course, will need some observation, but I think it’s in her best interest to get her home as soon as possible.”

The room was dim, white and squeaky clean. The sounds around her were soft, muffled, as though she were in a dream. In the middle of the room was the bed, where Trish lay, looking small and beautiful and so peaceful it made Jessica want nothing more than to be lying next to her. Only now did she recognize how tired she actually was. A few hobbled steps took her to a chair at Trish’s bedside, and she slumped into it and leaned forward, resting her head next to Trish’s arm on the bed.

She laid there for what felt like an eternity, just listening to Trish’s raspy breathing, taking in the serenity of the moment. The setting sun dwindled outside, and it’s last golden rays reflected through the windows and onto the walls, making everything look golden for those few moments.

Hours later, in the middle of the night, Trish awoke to find Jessica’s head cradled against her side, the messy black hair completely obstructing her view of Jess’s face. She felt drowsy, spaced-out and yet so happy. With great difficulty, she lifted her hand and moved the hair away from Jessica’s face.

Although she tried her best not to, the movement still awoke Jessica, who yawned widely before realising that Trish was awake.

“Trish!” She mumbled, shuffling to get closer to her. “How- how are you feeling?”

Her mouth was so dry that she barely managed to croak out ‘water’, but Jessica still understood and immediately handed her a cup.

“I’m fine.” Trish told Jessica, who was looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Which, to Jessica, was true. A gentle smile spread onto her lips, and she felt like her heart would burst out of her chest. Trish, noticing this, blushed and lowered her eyes. Carefully, she slid her hand across to touch Jessica’s hand, who instinctively interlocked her hand with Trish’s.

_I love you_.

Jessica opened her mouth, intent on saying it, but all she managed was to stammer. “I….I…” A painful, heart-breaking sob broke through, and she finally allowed herself to break and crumble. Trish, who had never seen Jessica cry, pulled her closer, allowing the woman to nestle her tear-streaked face in the crook of her neck. “I know.” She whispered, using her good hand to stroke Jessica’s hair gently. “I know.” She buried her face in Jessica’s hair, and all of a sudden was engulfed by her scent – a strange combination of whiskey, cheap shampoo, and smoke which Trish absolutely loved. It was the smell of home. That sensation was enough to push her over the edge, and she began sobbing quietly, tears falling off her cheeks and into the black hair. Each sob caused a jolt of pain to run through her chest, both figuratively and literally speaking, but she couldn’t stop. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying – she was relieved, she was sad, she was still in shock and - most importantly – she was overjoyed that Jessica was there.

Eventually the sobs subsided and they drifted back to dreamless, calm sleep.


	3. 3

The next morning Trish woke up to find Jessica gone. The surprise soon changed to sorrow, and the sudden loneliness distressed her so much that she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Only moments later, Jessica stepped in with two cups of coffee in her hand. Trish stared at her, open-mouthed, a single tear trickling down her cheek as her expression changed from sorrowed to happy.

“Morning.” Jessica walked over and handed Trish the coffee, her gaze lingering on the tear on her cheek.

“Morning.” Trish, feeling slightly embarrassed, took a sip of the coffee, realising too late that it was still far too hot. “Ow.”

Jessica chuckled and sat on the side of Trish’s bed. Her eyes ran up and down Trish’s figure, who in turn carefully watched as Jessica’s brows furrowed in concern and worry upon seeing the various bruises, cuts and bandages that adorned Trish’s body. Her hand rested on Trish’s knee, a gesture all too natural and yet so missed by both of them. Neither of them spoke – they only looked at one another, comfortably quiet, and breathed in each other’s presence.

Trish was the first to break the silence. “So...”

“You’re being released later.” Jessica blurted out. “I went over to your place to, um, clean up a bit.”

To this, Trish could only reply with the most bewildered look she could muster. “You? Clean!? No way.”

“Shut up.”

"You know I'm right."

"Fuck you."

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a big deal or anything.”

“Nevertheless, thank you.”

Jessica raised her eyes to meet Trish’s, who was smiling brighter than the sun. Their eyes were locked for mere seconds before she tore them away, looking anywhere but to Trish’s direction as she desperately worked to steady her racing heart.

“Jessica…” Trish spoke softly, as though fearing Jessica would leave at any sudden noise or movement. “I…I never really thanked you, for, you know – saving me.” She drew in a deep breath and sighed. “So thank you.”

Jessica turned her head back to look at Trish with her eyes wide. “You _really_ don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had to do it. I couldn’t- I could never _leave_ you like that.”

Trish furrowed her brows. “You _had_ to do it? Well don’t make me sound any more like a burden, won’t you?”

“No, I- I had to do it because you’re you. If something happened to you, I swear, I wouldn’t make it.”

In her mind, Trish grinned slightly. She knew what Jessica was saying – of course she did, she had known the woman for years. But she wanted to force her to say what had thus far gone unsaid. And she wasn’t about to budge.

“Why wouldn’t you make it?”

_Surely at this point Jessica has already caught on_ , Trish thought to herself. However, the look of frustration was evident in Jessica’s face as she scrambled to find the right words.

“Because-“ She mumbled, her voice breaking slightly as she mumbled to herself: “Why can’t I say it?”

“Say what?”

Jessica’s eyes widened as she realised what the blonde was doing. Quickly after, her face was scrunched up as she shot Trish the nastiest glare she could muster all the while hunching over and crossing her arms, reminding her of a pouty child. “Fuck you.”

Trish smiled gently as she looked at Jessica. Slowly, surprised by Trish’s silence, the woman turned back to look at her. The smile caught Jessica by surprise, and she cocked her head slightly as though to ask Trish a question. This only made her smile wider.

“What?” Jessica asked, utterly confused.

She didn’t notice that she’d shuffled in closer to Trish. Trish had, however, duly noted this fact and took full advantage. Closing the gap between them, she lifted her hand to cup Jessica’s face as she covered the woman’s lips with her own in a tender kiss. In response, Jessica relaxed so much it was almost as though she had melted to Trish’s touch. She felt desperate for more, for all of it – for the world to be just Trish and her like she had wanted it to be for so long.

A knock on the door brought reality crashing back at them, and Jessica tore away from Trish, despite the fact that every cell of her being wanted her to do anything but that. The doctor came in, and after an extensive number of tests and instructions and advice, Trish was released into Jessica’s care.

Jessica had brought some clothes for Trish from her place, since the clothes she had been wearing were pretty much totalled. Even with Trish’s extensive wardrobe, Jessica had still somehow managed to find the one old worn T-shirt of hers and a pair of leggings which Trish had forgotten she even owned. The hoodie which she had brought was Jessica’s also, although Trish had claimed it so long ago she doubted Jess even knew that.

She had also brought her new underwear and a bra – Trish couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Jessica going through her underwear drawer, picking out something for her.

“I almost brought the bright red lacy set, but I figured it was probably a _little_ too much.” It was as though Jessica had read Trish’s mind, and for a moment she stared at Jessica with half a smile on her lips.

One important item of clothing, however, was missing.

“Did you bring me socks? Or shoes?”

Jessica paled. “Shit.”

“I guess you’ll have to carry me.” Trish offered jokingly.

“I guess.”

Trish looked at the pile of clothes on her bed, then back at Jessica.

“Um…Jess..”

“Right, you probably need privacy.” Jessica said, taking a few steps towards the door.

“Actually, I think I need help.”

“Oh.”

The moment was so awkward that Trish felt terrible for making it so. Years before, this wouldn’t have been even near as uncomfortable. As children, they even shared a bedroom for some time, not to mention the countless hotel rooms they shared during Patsy’s countless tours around the States. They had never been this awkward around each other until Kilgrave came into the picture.

“Come on, Jess, I really need help.” Trish insisted, attempting and failing to pull off the hospital gown herself to demonstrate her incapacity.

Jess came over, her movements slow, and carefully helped the gown off of Trish. She made sure to keep her eyes averted from the naked woman in front of her, but despite all her attempts she still felt a slight blush creep onto her cheeks. She thanked the heavens for her thick black hair, which covered her ears which she knew were red with embarrassment. Of all the things that could've happened, Jessica truly did not want Trish to notice her discomfort. 

Of course, Trish noticed Jessica’s discomfort and awkwardness and immediately felt hurt and bad. She felt like she was in the wrong, like she was forcing Jessica to do this and feel like she did. Nevertheless, she really did need to get some clothes on.

“Can you hand me the underwear?” She asked quietly. “I can do this part myself.”

Jessica turned her face away as Trish struggled to change her underwear with only one partially good hand to use. Although she wasn’t looking in her direction, she still noticed when Trish’s balance failed and instinctively reached out to catch her, even knowing to watch for her bad shoulder. Her hands steadied her, and where they touched Trish's skin felt hot. Even this slight touch was too much, and Jessica had to force herself to pull her hands away from where they had lingered. All this she did without looking, not until Trish spoke again.

“Can you help me with the…the bra?”

Jessica nodded, despite the fact that she really did not want to. Not because she didn’t want to help – she’d do anything to help Trish. But this was a level of intimacy she had deliberately been avoiding with Trish for as long as she could remember.

She turned back to look at Trish, and despite all her mental preparation was still surprised by the sight of her naked upper body. She slid the bra onto Trish one strap at a time, trying to work as fast as she could. To fasten the clasp, she reached around her back, awkwardly hugging the woman who was almost equally as awkward about the whole situation as she was.

Trish was also very amused. Jessica was not.

The shirt went on with some struggle – it took a while to figure out a way to fit her injured shoulder through the sleeve without moving it extensively. The hoodie was easy enough to slip on, although Jessica did seem to take her good time with adjusting both sleeves before moving on to the leggings.

Trish looked away as Jessica knelt down and helped the leggings on, one leg at a time, pulling the fabric up her legs slowly and carefully. At this point, it was impossible for Jessica to look away as she reached Trish’s upper thighs and hips. She swallowed as her face came to level with Trish’s hips, and quickly rose, her face flushed.

“Uh…there you go.”

Trish almost laughed at the strangeness of the whole situation. Even so, she swallowed her laughter, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and managed to force out the words ‘thank you’ without completely losing it.

Although she was relatively good to walk herself, Trish was still taken down to the cab in a wheelchair, which Jessica insisted on pushing. Even back at the apartment, Jessica insisted on helping Trish walk, which Trish really didn’t mind – the feel of Jessica’s hand around her waist was irresistible to her, and she longed for more. In it's absence, she was happy to settle for even the little touches and smiles, which they had been exchanging for what felt like an eternity of their lives.

This time, as the elevator raced up towards her apartment, both of them had butterflies in their stomach. Jessica was nervous because she was intent on finally telling Trish what she’d known for years. Trish was aware of Jessica’s obvious need to tell something, and knew the tension that this created was due to break at some point – in what way, though, was still up in the air.

Jessica led Trish to her apartment, which was completely clean and void of any sign of the events of the days before. Even the bullets in the wall were gone, a fresh layer of mismatched paint covering their marks.

“I think I need to sleep – can you take me to my room?”

Jessica did as told, and soon Trish was comfortably tucked in her bed, a glass of water and some painkillers on her nightstand in case she felt any pains. She hadn’t been able to tell Jess that she was already in pain – the knowledge would’ve only distressed the woman. Despite Trish’s insistence that she was fine, Jessica had decided to stay in her apartment indefinitely until she was okay. Call it penance or whatever, she felt like she owed Trish at least that much. Not to mention she was yet to say those three little words.

No more turning back.


	4. 4

Jessica was about to nod off on the couch when she heard a distressed noise from Trish’s room. Without even stopping to think, she rushed over, only to find Trish alone and fast asleep. She was having a nightmare; tossing and turning in the bed, as well as making whimpering noises which made Jessica's heart wrench.

Fearing Trish would roll over onto her bad shoulder and further hurt herself, Jessica climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Trish. She placed her hand on Trish’s cheek, and the other on her shoulder to stop her from moving. Immediately as she did so, Trish woke with a gasp. She sat up, groaning from pain, and began sobbing quietly as Jessica pulled her closer.

“Hey, it’s okay…” She mumbled quietly, stroking Trish’s hair gently. “It was just a nightmare. You’re fine.”

Trish looked up at Jessica, her teary eyes glimmering in the hazy light. “I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?” Jessica was genuinely surprised. “Why would you be sorry?”

It seemed that in that moment Trish came to realise that she was no longer dreaming. A look of confusion spread onto her face, and turned her face away from Jessica. Jessica, however, was having none of it. Carefully, she touched Trish’s jaw and turned her to face herself. This action brought memories of her abductor back to Trish, who flinched visibly and pushed Jessica's hand away.

“Trish?”

Trish bit her lip as she tried to keep herself from crying again. It was stupid – she was fine, Jessica was fine, there was no reason to cry. She knew that and yet she couldn’t stop feeling like shit.

“Trish, what’s wrong?”

She let out a shaky breath and leaned back into Jessica, her whole body trembling. Jessica noticed this and rubbed her back in an attempt to relax her, the worry in her heart growing with each passing moment.

It had been a long while of silence when Trish finally spoke. “I’m just sorry…for making you worry. For making you uncomfortable.”

Jessica cursed herself when she heard Trish speak those words. “I wasn’t-“

“You were.” Trish interrupted, sitting up. She wiped at her eyes, and sniffled a little. “You have been uncomfortable with me for years. And today…I’m sorry.”

Jessica shook her head. “No, Trish…I never intended for you to- I was uncomfortable but it wasn’t because of you, I swear – it was me. I was uncomfortable because of me.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“I told you I couldn’t afford to risk you.” Jessica said. “And to do that, I had to keep you at a distance. I’m a mess, Trish. You deserve better than to deal with me and my crap. And I want you to be safe. I- no, you _have_ to be safe.”

“But you saw what happened! Whether or not you’re there, I’ll never be completely safe. You just have to accept that.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

_Because I love you_.

“Because I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

Jessica, immensely frustrated, huffed angrily. “Afraid of losing you!” She took a few breaths, calmed herself down, then continued. “At least when I’m not involved I know you’ll be happy and I can watch you from a distance. That way, you _live_.”

A new set of tears welled up in Trish’s eyes. “You can’t really want that.”

Jessica knew she couldn’t lie to Trish. Nevertheless, she tried. “Yes, I can.” Her voice was shaky, yet defiant.

“You’re lying.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Would you stop!?”

That shut Jessica up. She looked warily at Trish who was growing more and more frustrated by the minute. The look in her eyes was all too familiar to Jess - she was truly angry, her brows furrowed and her jaw clenched tight. They were both silent – neither of them seemed to be finding the appropriate words to say.

“I miss you.”

Jessica looked at Trish, her heart aching as she realised what the woman had just said.

Trish continued, still angry. “I miss you, okay? I don’t even know why, or I do, but you don’t want to hear it and I don’t want to say it and I’m tired. I’m tired of missing you.”

“I-“ Jessica began, but her voice broke. “I’m sorry.”

“I mean, didn’t you ever stop to think that you couldn’t just drop me like some toy? You can’t just leave, Jessica. Not after all this time. You just can't. It hurt me then, and it hurts me now.” Trish gestured at her various injuries, her eyes set on Jessica. “It hurts more than all of these combined and more.”

“I love you.”

Of all the things Jessica could have said, those three little words were the last Trish would have ever expected. She stared at the woman blankly, her mouth slightly open, unable to even form a thought. It was as though everything in the world had stopped, her heart most important of them all.

Jessica was shocked, too. So shocked, in fact, that she got up off the bed and rushed out of the room, leaving Trish angry and frustrated in her wake.

“Hey! You can’t just leave like that!” Trish yelled. “That’s not fair!”

With no response, she continued on yelling. “If you don’t come here right now I’m getting up and coming there!”

Still no response.

“I’m getting up…!”

Trish hadn’t even gotten to the side of the bed when Jessica returned to the room, practically jumping onto the bed and rushing to meet Trish’s lips with hers. Her hands cupped Trish’s face, who was completely surprised by the entire moment. She caught on pretty quickly, and responded to Jessica’s kiss with the same urgency, breathing and drinking in all of Jessica. It was as though all that they’d said just moments ago were gone – all but those three little words.

_I love you_.

When they parted, Trish felt breathless and dizzy. So much so, that she fell back onto the bed, the room spinning as Jessica crawled to lay beside her.

“I’m sorry.” Those were the first words Jessica said.

Trish groaned and turned to her side, facing Jessica. “Seriously, Jess, you have to stop saying you’re sorry.”

“I know. I love you.”

“I know.” Trish smiled. “I love you too.”

The look of gratification on Jessica’s face warmed Trish’s heart. Slowly, much gentler than the first time, she leaned in and kissed Jessica. Her hand came to rest on Jessica’s side, and this time neither of them were uncomfortable. The touch felt natural, and was craved by both women just as much. Jessica snaked her hand around Trish’s neck, who winced as the bruises reminded her of their existence. Jessica tore away immediately, her eyes wide.

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?” She asked, looking pale.

Trish shrugged. “Not really.”

“So I did hurt you.”

“No.” Trish shook her head and smiled gently. She lifted her hand to her neck, touching the bruises carefully. “You didn’t hurt me. You just…accidentally touched where I was already hurt.”

“You said it didn’t hurt.”

“I might’ve lied. A little bit.”

“Trish-“

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I worry, Trish.” Jessica grumbled. “Just like you worry about me.”

Trish smirked at Jessica, who made a face. “So sweet of you to remember.”

“I just…” The black-haired woman sighed, flopping over to lay on her back and stare at the ceiling. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“Jess…”

“You were hurt and I wasn’t there to protect you.” Jessica said, her voice on the point of breaking. “None of this would’ve happened if I’d been there.”

“Jess. I’m fine now. I’ll be fine. None of this is your fault, you know it isn’t.” Trish yawned widely. Carefully, she shuffled over to where Jess was laying, wincing from the tiny stabs of pain as she moved.

“What are you doing?” Jessica asked her, her face scrunched up in confusion.

“I am trying-“ Trish groaned, stopping for a moment to ease the stabbing pain in her stomach.  “-trying to cuddle up to you.” Trish huffed, finally close enough to Jessica. The woman, still slightly confused, lifted her arm, allowing Trish to climb up to rest her head on Jessica’s chest. She draped her arm across Jessica’s stomach, feeling her jump ever so slightly at her touch.

“Is this okay?” She inquired, looking up at Jessica.

The woman smiled gently and nodded. “Of course it is.”

“Thank you.” Trish mumbled, resting her cheek against Jessica, feeling her heart beat in her chest. She yawned again, and shifted a little to be more comfortable. The steady beat of Jessica’s heart lulled her to sleep in no time at all.

 

 

 

 

 


	5. 5

Jessica, despite being very tired, found herself unable to fall asleep. The times she had daydreamed of something like this – of Trish, and her, together – were too many to count. She was so comfortable, so happy, that she didn’t know what to do. After all that had happened with Killgrave and it’s aftermath, she had forgotten how this felt. She even doubted she’d ever felt this comfortable in her life. She found herself thinking back to the first time she had thought of Trish as more than just a friend.

_It had been a long week, gruelling for both of them for different reasons – both of them seniors in high school, Jessica had spent the week graveling from one horrible exam to the next. Trish, on the other hand, had spent the week filming and at charity events with her mother, all the while completing all her work with little to no time at all. She had come home without her mother, who had some business trip to conduct, and laid down onto the living room floor, all her things scattered around her. Jessica was splayed on the couch in very much the same condition._

_“How bad?” She asked after a long moment of silence._

_Trish groaned, lifting her hand up ever so slightly only to let it fall back against the floor with a thump. “9.”_

_“Same.”_

_“Jack Conaugh asked me out.”_

_Jessica, suddenly feeling annoyed, turned to her side to look at Trish. “What’d you say?”_

_“No.” Trish grumbled. “I wanted to say no. But mother dearest…”_

_“She made you say yes.”_

_“Yes.” The blonde sighed and pounded the floor. “I know he’s hot and he’s popular and he’s good press. I know that. But I really don’t like him.”_

_“He’s a dick.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“And you hate him.”_

_“Yeah.” Trish sighed and rolled over to her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows so that her face was level with Jessica’s. “You know me better than I do.”_

_“No I don’t.”_

_“Sometimes it feels that way.” The blonde’s voice faded away, and she looked into the distance, her eyes full of sadness which made Jessica’s heart twinge. In that instant, with Trish so close, she realised that she had an urge to kiss her. Trish was quiet, still looking away, and for the first time, Jess realised how beautiful she was – her golden hair framed an angled, perfectly balanced face which looked regal and almost inhumanly beautiful at times._

_The moment was broken by Trish, who groaned and got up, evidently headed to the kitchen to stuff her face while her mother wasn’t there to tell her she couldn’t._

**_I think might love you._ **

Trish mumbled in her sleep, and moved in even closer to Jessica, throwing her leg over Jessica’s so that she lay half on top of the black-haired woman. Jessica shifted slightly to have better view of Trish’s face – even asleep, she was still stunning. Her lips were parted, her breath hot against Jessica’s skin. Her expression was calm and content, and knowing she was comfortable made Jessica feel warm and fuzzy inside. She breathed deeply, taking in the weight of Trish on her body – it was perfect, natural, like they were made to be like this.  

Her hand rested gently on Trish’s arm, her fingertips brushing against the bandage which covered the bullet wound in the blonde’s shoulder. Each time Jessica awoke from her light, dreamless sleep, she was surprised to find Trish still there – in the dark hours of the early morning, the events of the past few days felt unreal. Every time she fell asleep, she forgot what she had accomplished.

And every time she woke up, she remembered.

\--

Trish woke up the next day feeling better than she had in years. She was warm, cozy, and wrapped up in the arms of the woman she loved. Everything was perfect.

At some point during the night, she had ended up with her face nestled in the crook of Jessica’s neck. Her arm rested on Jessica’s chest, her leg intertwined with hers. One of Jessica’s hands was gently but firmly around Trish’s waist, her other arm draped carefully over Trish’s shoulders in a protective embrace.

Trish lifted her head slightly to look at Jessica. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been washed for days, the bags under her eyes as dark as ever. There was a gentle smile playing on the sleeping woman’s lips, which in turn caused a smile to spread onto Trish’s face. She was still wearing the same old dirty jeans and hoodie, which reeked of cheap whiskey and sweat and smoke. None of this mattered to Trish – she had eyes only for Jessica and her sleeping, beautiful face.

Ever so gently, she bent down and pressed a soft kiss onto Jessica’s jaw. She moved up along her cheek, kissing the woman gingerly, until she came to meet her lips with Jessica’s in a sweet, careful kiss. A few seconds later, Jessica stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. She closed them immediately, her face scrunching up as she groaned from the pain the bright daylight caused for her eyes. Trish only chucked and kissed Jessica again.

“Good morning.” She whispered. Jessica, still struggling to wake up, grumbled a response which might’ve been ‘good morning’. Her arms tightened around Trish, who felt her heart leap in her chest as she was pulled tighter against Jessica.

“Come on, Jess. Time to get up.” Trish insisted, continuing to kiss on Jessica’s lips and cheeks and nose and eyelids. “Open your eyes.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“It burns.”

“Jeesss….” Trish coaxed. “I’m hungry.”

As if on cue, her stomach growled, and Jessica opened her eyes slightly. “Crap.”

“What?”

“I slept in my dirty clothes in your bed.”

“So?”

“Don’t you have some kind of rule against that?”

Trish rolled her eyes. “I’ll wash the sheets anyway.”

Jessica yawned and stretched her arms out wide. “You know if I’m going to get up you’re going to have to get off me.”

“No.”

“Trish…” Jessica smiled, almost completely awake now. “Come on. You’re hungry, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me go get you some food.”

“I don’t have any food.”

“I’ll go to the store.”

Grumbling, Trish rolled over, wincing from pain as the scabs and bandages reminded her of their existence. “Do you even have money?”

Jessica, who was sitting up, paused. “Um..no.”

From amidst the blankets and pillows, Trish gestured towards her bedside table. “There should be some.”

Sure enough, there was a pile of money in the drawer. Jessica, shaking her head at Trish’s definition of ‘some’, grabbed a couple of bills and headed out of the room. She was still drowsy, comfortably rested and sleepy at the same time. Her clothes, which she knew were dirty and smelly, also smelled a little bit like Trish. She couldn’t quite place what the exact scent was – for Jessica, the scent of Trish was the scent of home.

Before heading out she checked Trish’s fridge. Sure enough, there was only one carton of soy milk and one egg, as well as an old bottle of salad dressing. Jessica was relatively surprised, considering the amount of effort Trish generally put into making her home perfect.

When confronted with the task of buying groceries, Jessica was stumped. For the past few years, her groceries had consisted of frozen pizza and whiskey, mixed with some other variants of alcohol. She spent ages pondering what Trish would buy, and ended up buying far too much for just the two of them.

By the time she got back, Trish had managed to drag herself to the living room, and was splayed on the couch when Jessica stumbled in with three bags of groceries in her hands.

“What the hell, Jessica?” Trish cried. “You went out to get us breakfast and you come back an hour later with enough food to feed a family of nine?”

Jessica shrugged and started putting the groceries away. After she was done – with all the foods in the wrong places, of course – she gathered a pile of random foods on a plate and took it to Trish, who had been watching her with an amused look on her face.

“You do know I’m going to have to rearrange everything, right?” She asked as she grabbed a sandwich.

“No, you’re not.”

“You managed to put _everything_ in the wrong place.”

“Shut up and eat.”


	6. 6

A mountain of food later, Trish found herself back in Jessica’s arms, her head resting against the woman’s shoulder. Both of them were so content from having their stomachs full and a good night’s sleep that for a long while, neither of them spoke.

“Jess.”

“Hm?”

“Go take a shower.”

“Why?” Jessica asked, despite being fully aware of her grimy and most likely disgusting condition.

“You smell.”

“So do you.”

“That’s because I spent the night against you and your smell.”

The black-haired woman groaned in protest. “Fi-ine. But it won’t help, my clothes will be just as smelly.”

“I’ll find something for you from my stuff. Now go.”

Jessica lifted Trish off of her gently, then headed over to the bathroom. She didn’t want to leave Trish, despite knowing that neither of them could live their lives with the other constantly at their side.

She knew, and yet longed for exactly that.

_Crap,_ she thought, _I really am in love._ She chuckled as she undressed herself, exposing the bruises that covered her stomach and ribs. They were souvenirs from her brief stint in prison after killing Killgrave. Not everyone was a fan of hers, and even with super strength it was hard to avoid getting a couple of blows.

She showered thoroughly, this being the first time she had come into contact with warm water in over a week. She used Trish’s shampoo and Trish’s conditioner, as well as her soap. They smelled of flowers and fruits, the sweetness of the scent almost enough to make Jessica gag. Despite the overpowering femininity and sweetness of them, all were a part of the way Trish smelled, and Jessica thoroughly enjoyed having that scent attached to herself.

She stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, using it to dry her hair before wrapping it around herself and stepping out of the bathroom’s other door into Trish’s bedroom. There was a neat pile of clothes waiting for her on the bed.

When Jessica emerged from Trish’s bedroom wearing her sweatpants and hoodie, Trish couldn’t help but smile. The clothes were hers, not Jessica’s, and it showed – the sweatpants had the word PINK written on them in big pink block letters, while the hoodie was blue and femininely cut. Jessica looked so odd and yet so adorable that she couldn’t help a little snicker escaping her lips.

Jessica, however, was having none of it. “Shut it.”

Trish smirked back, as if daring Jessica to do something about it. Jessica, in retaliation, leaned in and kissed her. The last ripples of Trish’s laughter spilled into Jessica’s mouth, but were effectively silenced when Jessica’s tongue found it’s way past Trish’s lips. Compared to the chaste, gentle kisses they’d shared before, this was an entirely new thing – it was demanding, hot, and infinitely more pleasurable. The fact that they were separated by a couch frustrated Trish, but Jessica was too focused on everything else to notice.

Trish had never understood the appeal of French kissing. Of all the men who had at some point gotten their tongues in her mouth, she had never felt anything but disgust and confusion. She had thought that the hype was fake, and that everyone felt the same as she did.

But when the one kissing her was Jessica, she finally understood.

When they finally parted, both of them were breathing heavily. Jessica noticed that Trish’s face was flushed, her cheeks a cute pink which she adored. She hopped onto the couch, right next to Trish, and smirked at her as if to say ‘you’re welcome’.

Trish, realising she’d been staring at Jessica, blushed and looked away, biting her lip. A rush of excitement had run through her body, and she wasn’t surprised to find herself thinking of how the kissing could have led to something even more pleasurable.

Jessica had shared a number of tongue kisses with both men and women. She knew what it was all about, and she had known how good it would be with Trish. So, instead of being overwhelmed like Trish was, she was simply content and happy. She couldn’t help but move her tongue around in her mouth, tasting Trish, and grinning to herself as she did.

Trish was still turned away, desperately trying to calm her racing heart. Jessica moved in closer, sliding her hands around Trish’s waist from behind and resting her chin on Trish’s shoulder. She kissed Trish’s neck, and a quiet moan escaped Trish’s lips. Surprised by this, Jessica stopped, looking at Trish with her eyebrows raised in amusement. Trish frowned at Jessica, but didn’t speak, and so Jessica could only opt to continue.

The tiny sighs and moans of pleasure which escaped Trish’s pursed lips as Jessica worked her magic with her neck were intoxicating for Jess. The bruises around Trish’s neck, which had stopped hurting and were only sore and extremely gentle, made even the slightest touch feel intense. Trish leaned back into Jessica’s lap, laying her head on her shoulder as she gave herself up for Jessica to play with.

The black-haired woman moved in to suck on Trish’s earlobe, and she surprised her with a gentle nip which resulted in a gasp from the blonde. She moved in closer, her breath hot against Trish’s skin, and whispered into her ear.

“I love you.”


	7. 7

A week passed, full of kisses and cuddles and gentle touches, of late movie nights and morning coffees and grumbles and sighs and laughter. Trish, who was slowly healing, found herself happiest than she had ever been. It was as though none of the bad things mattered anymore – not Killgrave, not her mother, nothing. Her life had been permanently changed by a whirlwind named Jessica Jones.

So it came to be that one night Trish woke up, alone, in the bed that she had grown to think of as theirs. In the dark of the night, being alone brought back all the fearful thoughts she had thought long gone. She got up, quietly, and walked around her flat. Realising there was no sign of Jessica anywhere, she felt her heart grow cold. Panic exploded in her chest, and she barely managed to get herself to the couch. Her phone was on the coffee table, and after a long while of just calming her breathing, she reached for it.

The call went straight to voicemail.

Now Trish was _really_ freaking out. For all she knew, Jessica could be dead in a ditch somewhere. Or blacked out in some alley, her breath reeking of whiskey. Or in the midst of a fight which she would eventually lose. The possibilities were endless.

In her panicked state, the next twenty minutes felt like an eternity of worry and pain. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe; not knowing where Jessica was and if she was okay was Trish’s worst nightmare.

It was then that she heard a noise from her balcony. Jumping up, she felt all her worry melt away when she saw Jessica climbing over the railing, a bag of clothes in her hand.

She hurried over to the door, moving too quick for her weakened state. “Jessica!”

Jessica was surprised to find Trish awake at this hour. She had expected the blonde to sleep soundly, giving her the perfect opportunity to surprise her. “Um…hi Trish.”

Trish took one step forward and stumbled, all energy draining from her at once. She fell, but was caught by Jessica, who dropped her bag and picked Trish up in her arms as though she weighed nothing. Of course, for Jessica, that much was true – Trish really was as light as a feather in her arms.

“Whoa, watch it.” She said, looking at Trish in concern. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“You were gone.” Trish mumbled, resting her head against Jess’s shoulder. “I was worried.”

Jessica leaned in and kissed her firmly. “I came back, didn’t I? No need to worry.”

“What were you doing?”

“I’m moving in.”

“What?”

“I got my stuff.”

“That tiny bag?”

“Yeah.” Jessica moved on inside and towards the bedroom. “I figured it made sense.”

“And how does sneaking out in the middle of the night make any sense?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Jessica smirked as she laid Trish down onto the bed. She reached over and draped the duvet over the blonde, tucking her in like one would a little kid. Then she went back out and got her bag of things before taking off her shoes and jeans, leaving her in only underwear and a t-shirt. She climbed into bed, next to Trish. “But, seeing as you’ve turned my room into a gym, I’m moving in…right here.” As she spoke she pulled Trish up against her and buried her face in Trish’s neck. Trish felt her heart melt, and sighed audibly.

“I guess you have no other choice, really.” She replied, placing her hands on top of Jessica’s. “But next time, leave a note. Or, you know, charge your fucking phone.”

“Whatever you say.” Jessica murmured, already half asleep. “Princess.”

Despite having been called princess all her life, always with a negative connotation, Trish felt a warmth spread through her. She knew Jessica was just playing around, and that she meant nothing more by it. It wasn’t meant to hurt her, and it didn’t.

\--

Over the next few weeks, Trish began slowly noticing the little things in her apartment that told her it was no longer hers but theirs. At first, it was simply the little piles of dirty clothes and trash that Jessica seemed to create wherever she went. A meagre portion of Trish’s closet was overtaken by Jessica’s clothes. Beside Trish’s wide collection of colourful prints and dresses, the few piles of identical jeans and sweatpants and the few shirts and hoodies, all of which were basically the same colour, looked comical.

A few days later, Trish noticed that the couch had been shifted a couple of feet to the left. When Jessica had lived there, that had been the place of the couch – Trish had never understood it’s importance, only that it made the space between the dining table and the couch extremely hard to pass.

Then it was the bottle of whiskey which appeared in the kitchen cabinet. Trish had known it would come back at some point – she would’ve been foolish to think that Jessica could give up the habit just like that. Nevertheless, she felt her heart sink a little when she saw the bottle.

“It’s not going to be like before, you know.”

Trish spun around to find Jessica standing a few feet from her. “I wasn’t-“

“I know you’re worried. But I promise.” Jessica tried a gentle smile, but Trish kept her brows furrowed.

“Are you sure you can promise that?” She asked. “Cause it’s alright if you can’t, I’ll understand. But you can’t expect me to like it.”

“Trish.” Jessica was completely serious now, the smile gone and her eyes dark. “I can and I will. I haven’t drank in four weeks. I can do this. I just…figured I’d test myself a little.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“When have I ever made sense?”

“Well-“ Trish shrugged. The tension had passed, and she closed the cabinet door behind her. Jessica moved in closer, placing her hands firmly on Trish’s hips and leaning in for a kiss. Before their lips met, Trish pulled back, lifting her hand to stop Jessica. “If you show up drunk I’ll kill you.”

Jessica grinned and kissed Trish. “Fair enough.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want you going out to get drunk.” Trish tried to keep talking, despite the fact that Jessica was making it very hard for her.

“Uh-huh.”

“Just…don’t disappear, okay?”

Jessica stopped what she was doing and raised her eyes to meet Trish’s. “I would never.”

“Good.”

“Now, how about you hush and let me kiss you?”


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to you all! Here's a little present for you guys :)

It had been exactly a month since the incident. For the past week, Trish had avoided most physical contact with Jessica. They had kissed and cuddled and held hands, yes, but Trish had deliberately avoided the one-armed hugs. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to hug Jessica. She most certainly did. But she also really wanted to surprise Jessica.

Her shoulder had regained almost full function, and the pain was all but gone. For the first time in a month, Trish knew she would be able to wrap her arms around Jessica the way she wanted. Jessica didn’t know – not yet, anyway. It was a little thing, just a hug really – but it was also a big thing for Trish, and she found herself all sorts of jittery as she waited for Jessica to come home from a job.

She’d resumed her PI work only last week, per Trish’s insistence. She refused to let Trish provide for her, and so stubbornly insisted on chasing down cheating husbands and missing college kids to ‘provide for herself’. Of course that was in name only – Trish made way more than Jessica did, and they both knew and did not really care. Jessica had always done as she wished, and Trish had always watched from the sides in amusement.

It wasn’t that different this time, only this time Trish was watching as Jessica’s girlfriend instead of as her friend. And that made all the difference.

She heard the key turn in the lock, and was at the door before Jessica had even made it through the door. The black-haired woman was soaking wet from the sloshy, snowy rain, her hair sticking to her face and shoulders as she struggled to get the wet leather jacket off herself. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold outside, and she had no feeling left in her mitten-covered fingers. It had been snowing all week, but today it had been warmer, resulting in the streets of New York to be flooded with slush and cold water. It was just like any other December she’d ever experienced.

Trish stood a few feet from her, excitement bubbling in her stomach, watching Jessica with plain joy radiating from her eyes.

“I would kill for a bath right now-“ Jessica began, but froze when she noticed Trish’s odd behaviour. “What?” she asked, her brows furrowed in suspicion. Trish only grinned and stepped in, wrapping her arms around Jessica and pulling her tightly against her body. She didn’t care that Jessica was cold and wet and smelled like the subway.

Jessica stood, frozen, for a long moment, not realising what was happening. Then she slowly wrapped her arms around Trish, pulling the two of them into an even tighter embrace.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Trish shook her head, her head comfortably nestled in Jessica’s shoulder.

“Is something wrong?”

Again, Trish shook her head.

“You’re hugging me.”

“Yeah.”

“What about your shoulder?”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“It’s been fine a while now. I waited a bit to surprise you, is all.”

“I…” Jessica just sighed, content, and let herself relax. “This is good.” She pulled Trish in closer, truly loving the feeling of having the woman completely pressed up against her. Her arms, wrapped tightly around Jessica, made her feel safe and comfortable in ways she’d never thought even possible.

In that moment, all was right in the world.

Despite it being oh-so comfortable, Trish couldn’t deny the fact that Jessica’s wet clothes were making her clothes cold and damp. She shivered, once, but it was enough to cause Jessica to tear away with a worried expression on her face.

“You’re cold.” She said, ignoring the fact that she herself was also freezing. “And your clothes are wet.”

“Just stating the obvious, I see.” Trish chipped. “But you must be cold too, you're the one who just came in from an ice storm.”

“Nah.”

“Jessica…”

“Ok, fine, I’m freezing my ass off. That what you wanna hear?”

A smile spread onto Trish’s face. “Yes. I’m going to run you a bath.”

She skipped away, still cold, and set up the bath. Meanwhile, Jessica quickly ran to the bedroom, and shoved Trish’s Christmas gift into the back of her side of the closet. She tossed a few shirts atop the package, and was satisfied that Trish wouldn’t find it.

It was a week till Christmas and, for the first time in ages, Jessica found herself excited. Of course, she still pretended to hate the whole idea just for Trish. She’d figured it’d be even more precious for Trish on the day to be completely surprised.

Trish had never really liked Christmas either – as a child, it had been a holiday full of TV appearances and foods she wasn’t allowed to eat and Christmas specials and Christmas parties full of old people. After ridding herself of her mother, she had reinvented the holiday and made it her own. She was intent on having the turkey and the tree and presents and the stockings and carols playing from the speakers at all hours. Jessica, knowing she was excited for Christmas, had put special effort into teasing her about it relentlessly.

Trish popped her head in from the bathroom, startling Jessica. “It’s ready.”

Jessica noticed Trish looked cold. “You should go. You don’t want to catch a cold and be sick on Christmas, do you?”

“Jessica.” The blonde groaned. “Get in the bath, now. God knows how long you’ve been out there.”

“Too long.” Jessica admitted, but then shrugged. “But you’re more precious. Besides, you’re the one who’s so hyped for Christmas.”

“Jess-“

“Fine.” She walked over to the bathroom and stopped in front of Trish. “But on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You have to agree first.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Fine. What is it?”

“Get in with me.”

The blonde’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment she found herself speechless. The two of them had, naturally, seen each other naked many a time over the years, even more so now that they lived together and slept in the same bed. They had changed in front of one another and Jessica had even helped her in the first few weeks since the hospital. The one thing they were yet to do was to have sex.

Trish had thought of it, of course. There had been countless times when they could’ve easily progressed from tongue kisses and caresses into something more. But each time, they hadn’t crossed that barrier. She knew Jessica would never initiate it – the woman was too concerned about pressuring Trish or making her uncomfortable to even consider it. Trish, on the other hand, had felt uncomfortable on her own accord. She knew Jessica had been with women as well as men, and her own lack of experience made her nervous.

“Trish…” Jessica whispered, placing a reassuring hand on the blonde’s hip. “It’s nothing. Just a bath. Nothing more.” She let her hand fall away as she stepped past Trish. Trish watched as Jessica swiftly pulled off her shirt, her bra falling off in an instant. The woman’s back was bony and fit, and Trish couldn’t help a little sigh escaping her lips. Jessica then turned slightly to smirk at Trish.

The sight of Jessica’s bare upper body was duly ignored by Trish, whose eyes immediately noticed the screaming purple bruise on Jessica’s stomach. Instantly, she was at Jessica’s side, her fingertips gently touching the bruise. “What did you do?”

Jessica sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

Trish pushed a finger into the bruise, resulting in a tiny wince from Jessica. “You sure?”

“Fine, it hurts. But it’s nothing.” Jessica grumbled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ She pulled off her wet jeans with a struggle, and slipped off her underwear, all the while very aware that Trish was frozen before her. She then stood up, completely naked, and cocked an eyebrow at the blonde.

“You coming?” She asked as she stepped into the steaming bath, the hot water making her cold skin prickle and sting.

Trish blushed slightly, realising that she’d been staring, and reached up to get her hair up into a bun. She then shyly took off her hoodie, tossing it to the side. Her bra followed suit, then her leggings. She knew Jessica was watching, and that only made her blush harder. _Dammit,_ she thought to herself _, it’s just a bath._

But it wasn’t just a bath. She was about to get into a bathtub, naked, with the woman she loved and longed to have sex with. The woman whom she had seen naked only moments ago. The woman, who at this current moment was watching her take off her underwear.

She quickly got into the bath, thankful for the meager cover the bubbles provided for her. The bathtub, though relatively large, was still not large enough to allow two people to be in it and not touch one another. Trish settled her legs to one side, resting atop Jessica’s, and felt butterflies in her stomach.

They sat in silence for a long while, both of them just taking in the warmth of the bath. 

“See? It’s not so bad.” Jessica smiled. “Or is it awful?”

Trish shook her head. “No…just a little…weird.”

“How come?”

“Well, I-“ Trish began, but blushed and looked away.

“Do tell.” Jessica’s voice was taunting.

“I just…seeing you naked, makes me feel things.”

“Wow, Trish, I never thought I’d see you at a loss for words.”

“Shut up, Jess. You’re hot and I don’t know how to do any of this.”

“Any of what?” The taunting tone was gone. Jessica was actually interested now, even slightly worried.

“This. Being with a woman. Being in love.” Trish blurted. “I just- You seem so good at everything and I just worry that I’m not.”

Jessica grinned and leaned in closer, her hand falling to rest on Trish’s knee while her face came in inches from Trish’s. “Don’t worry. You’re hot too. And it’s not like I’m good at _everything_.”

“But you’ve been with women.”

Jessica kissed Trish firmly. “Yeah. And I’ve been with men, as have you. So?”

“I just…” Trish groaned, feeling incredibly stupid. “It feels like my first time all over again, okay?”

“Trish…you don’t need to worry, okay? I’ll tell you how it works. You…” Jessica paused for a moment to kiss the blonde. “…will be perfect.”

“But you don’t understand.” Trish interrupted. “I’ve never been with someone who makes me feel this intense. I’ve never felt _anything_ for the people I’ve had sex with. Just you looking at me is more intimate than any of the sex I’ve ever had. I just…I can’t think straight.”

“That might be cause you’re not.”

“I’m not what?”

“Straight.”

Trish rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “I guess.” She reached up and pulled Jessica in for a kiss, still smiling against the woman’s lips. Jessica shuffled in closer, her hand brushing up against Trish’s breasts as she tried to get into a better position. A shiver ran through Trish’s body, and she wished Jessica hadn’t noticed.

She had noticed and grinned in response. “Can I?” Her voice was low and quiet, but Trish still heard and nodded gently. Jessica’s hand slid back to cup her breast, while her other hand wrapped around Trish’s lower back and lifted her into Jessica’s lap. All the while, Jessica was pressing gentle kisses on Trish’s neck and jaw.

Just the simple feeling of Jessica’s hand on her breast was like an entirely new feeling for Trish. It wasn’t so much the touch but rather the sexual energy in the whole situation that excited Trish. Her hands reached up to cup Jessica’s face as she kissed her girlfriend without holding anything back.

And then Jessica’s hand was on her thigh, and the whole dynamic changed. Trish paused to look at Jessica, who was breathing deeply with a look in her eyes which Trish had never seen before. Even so, she recognized it – it was lust, pure and intoxicating lust.

She knew what she wanted. And, quite clearly, she knew what Jessica wanted. But she also knew the reality of bathtub sex and the flooding disaster it always resulted in.

“Not here.”

They managed to get out and dry themselves off briefly before practically running to the bedroom, both of them falling to the bed in a tight embrace. Jessica took charge, knowing Trish’s lack of confidence in this specific act. Her hands tightly on Trish’s hips, she flipped the both of them so that Trish was underneath her. She laid on top of Trish, slowly, their hips and breasts pressing into each other as she came down to meet Trish’s lips with her own. She felt Trish’s hands on her breasts, shy at first. As she deepened the kiss, however, she felt a moan escape her lips as she felt them being massaged just the way she liked. Trish couldn’t help but smirk at Jessica, who kissed her again, this time with much more hunger. She could taste the lust and passion in her mouth, the demanding nature of her movements making Trish feel weak and turned on.

Jessica paused for a brief moment, and Trish stopped to notice that her hand rested on the blonde’s stomach. Trish looked back at Jessica, who raised her eyebrows ever so slightly as she asked: “Can I?”

Trish nodded, and Jessica leaned back in to kiss her as she slid her hand to touch the wetness between Trish’s thighs. The feeling of Trish’s smoothly waxed pussy and the slick wetness within was too much for Jessica, who couldn’t help but sigh from pleasure. Trish, too, sighed, feeling a warmth spreading through her abdomen as Jessica’s fingers worked their magic. She was overwhelmed with feelings of pleasure, both from Jessica’s fingers but also from her mouth, still firmly kissing her with lust and passion on her tongue. Trish felt intoxicated, drunker and higher than she had ever been, her head spinning as she continued, not even thinking, to indulge in feeling and giving pleasure to the woman before her.

But then, when she was on the brink of orgasm, Jessica stopped all that she was doing and moved away. Confused by this, Trish made a tiny noise that could only be understood by Jessica as ‘why’. Jessica, however, chuckled as she shuffled down to Trish’s hips. She rested her head on Trish’s stomach for a brief moment, looking up at the blonde whose eyes shone with the same lust which filled every cell in her own body.

“Do you want me to keep going?” She asked quietly, a smile playing on her lips. Trish groaned, feeling her pussy throb from being so turned on, and pushed Jessica’s head further down. “Yes.”

Jessica, however, took her sweet time kissing Trish’s stomach and thighs before finally getting to the point. The first touch, the first taste, was intoxicating in ways she’d never achieved with whiskey. She pressed her mouth against Trish’s vagina completely, her tongue swirling and moving in response to the quiet sighs and moans from the blonde. Her hands were on Trish’s hips, and Trish’s hands were gripping at Jessica’s hair.

She removed one hand from the blonde’s hips and, carefully and slowly, pushed two fingers into her. This solicited a moan from Trish, who already was again on the brink of orgasm. When Jessica began moving her fingers inside her while speeding up with her mouth, she responded with a gasp.

“Don’t…stop.” She moaned, her toes curling as the sweet release of orgasm finally spread through her body. Jessica continued, however, until Trish had finished. The blonde quickly sat up, pulling Jessica up to kiss her, tasting herself in Jessica’s mouth. She was infinitely comfortable and relaxed, but also very determined to do the best she could to do the same to Jessica. As she slipped her tongue into Jessica’s mouth, she pushed her down onto the bed, laying on top of her. Jessica’s hands found their way onto Trish’s hips, and for a long moment, they simply laid there, kissing.

Without even thinking, Trish began to move her hips, grinding against Jessica. She had done this with her previous partners, all of whom had seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. Of course, they had had penises instead of a pussy, but Trish was positively surprised when Jessica moaned in response to her grinding. None of the women Jessica had been with had done this the way Trish did. She hadn’t been with that many, and most of them had been simple ‘you eat me out I eat you out’ types of queer women.

Trish kept going, noticing Jessica’s increased moans and sighs, thoroughly pleased that she was able to make Jessica feel good. She had her hands on Jessica’s breasts, and began moving down, spending a good while kissing on her neck before moving on to play with her breasts. She kissed and sucked and did what she thought would feel good, and from the way Jessica was responding, it was working.

She then began sliding her hand down Jessica’s stomach, pausing briefly to ask for consent. Before she could even ask, however, Jessica grinned and said: “Yes, please, go ahead.”

The first thing that Trish realised was that it was really wet and slippery. She had touched herself many a time, but not feeling where her hand was made navigating her way around much harder. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the way Jessica’s pussy felt beneath her fingers. As her finger brushed against Jessica’s clit, she jerked involuntarily just the tiniest bit, causing Trish to grin against her mouth as she began rubbing just that spot. After a while of that, she slid her hand down further, pushing first one and then two fingers inside Jessica, who moaned as Trish brushed past her g-spot. When she missed the spot two times in a row, Jessica stopped briefly to mumble: “Just a little bit to the left.”

When Trish first felt Jessica contracting around her fingers, she was stunned. She had felt herself do the very same motion, but actually feeling it around her fingers was an entirely new thing. She kept going, her other hand rubbing Jessica’s clit as she pushed the black-haired woman closer and closer to an orgasm.

Jessica came suddenly and unexpectedly. Her hips bucked once or twice, and her pussy contracted around Trish’s fingers as she moaned into Trish’s mouth before relaxing completely. Trish slid her fingers out of Jessica, and placed her hand onto Jessica’s waist as the woman reached over and pulled a duvet over the two of them. They were both breathing heavily, and both felt so relaxed it was as though they had melted into one another.

“Holy shit.” Jessica breathed. “That was…great.”

Trish chuckled and moved up to lay her head next to Jessica’s. “It was.”

“See? You weren’t at all bad.”

Trish turned and scowled at Jessica. “At all bad? Wow, you sure know how to compliment.”

“Oh, please, I said it was great.” Jessica replied, pulling Trish in closer and spooning her. “And it was.” She kissed Trish’s shoulder gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too, asshole.” Trish sighed, feeling herself slipping into a comfortably tired state of sleepiness.

\--

After a long and comfortable nap, Jessica found herself with a naked Trish in her arms, too beautiful for words. Underneath the duvet, it was warm. Outside, it was cold. She snuggled up closer into Trish, breathing in her scent, only to notice the scar on her shoulder from where the bullet had gone through. A cold weight sank through to the pit of her stomach as she was cruelly reminded of what she regarded as her failure to protect the one thing she loved.

Trish turned over in her sleep to lay on her back, pushing the duvet away so that her chest and stomach were exposed. There, too, Jessica saw pale white scars. Some were thin, some were thick, but all were spread across Trish’s stomach and ribs. Without even thinking, Jessica found herself tracing the lines with her fingertips.

The gentle touch stirred and woke Trish, who watched Jess quietly until she noticed the blonde was awake.

“Morning, Princess.”

Trish smiled carefully. Jessica’s hand was on her stomach, her thumb gently tracing a particularly ugly scar that ran along her lower ribs. She looked at that hand, and then at Jessica, and was surprised to find that the woman’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“Jess…are you okay?”

Jessica bit her lip and shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Jess…”

“I’m fine.” The woman quipped, shaking her head slightly as if to rid her mind of those thoughts.

Trish leaned in close, her eyes staring into Jessica’s as she shook her head. “You’re lying.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Then just tell me.”

Jessica groaned. “I just…your scars, they remind me of what happened. How I failed.”

When Trish realised what this was all about, she sighed deeply. “Jess…you didn’t fail. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve been there.”

“No, you were in jail. You couldn’t have been there even if you wanted.”

“I could’ve gotten there faster-”

“Sure you could’ve, but I’m pretty sure that would’ve broken some laws of physics.” Trish interrupted, pressing a finger to Jessica’s lips to keep her from talking. “You saved me. That’s what’s important. You’re my hero like you always have been.”

“I’m not a hero.” Jessica grumbled, pushing Trish’s hand away. “I don’t think I know how to be one.”

“Well…” the blonde began, climbing on top of Jessica carefully. “I think you do. You’re just stubborn.”

“Trish…”

“Heroes save princesses, right?”

Jessica rolled her eyes, knowing there was no way to turn Trish’s mind. “Yes.”

“And you’ve been calling me a princess, and you saved me. So you’re a hero, so shut up about failing when you really didn’t.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“And whyever not?”

“Because I’m stubborn, Princess.” Jessica smirked. “That’s why.”


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry it took so long to update, my computer broke and I lost the file :( but here it is, the last chapter - i hope you guys like it!!

Another month passed, and it seemed that life in the Walker-Jones residence was all but perfect. Jessica did, of course, retain a certain air of privacy and self-sufficiency - after all, she couldn’t as well just mooch off Trish altogether.

Trish returned to her talk show a little over a month after the incident. She never really publicized the cause for her disappearance, but was forced to give out a small statement after stories of her accidental pregnancy and following abortion began dominating webforums and affecting her public image. In her statement, she made an insinuation that she had fallen severely ill following exposure to contaminated livestock. A few days passed with speculation over the possibility of her disappearing again, but then all fell silent.

Or, well, as silent as it could get. The paparazzi still followed her everywhere, taking pictures at every hour of the day. Finding out that Jessica lived with Trish caused an uproar, but not of the kind they had expected; the press labeled Jessica’s living with Trish as a personal charity project, digging up Jessica’s story from some age-old archives and running on that story for what felt like ages.

Jessica thoroughly had a field day with that; she spent the next week or so calling herself Charity, annoying the blonde to the limit - but she was too cute to really be angry with.

“Jess?”

Jessica was on the couch, her feet propped up, a magazine and a bag of candies resting next to her. Trish had just arrived from work, and as she lowered her magazine she saw that there was a concerned look on Trish’s face.

“What is it?” Jessica asked, tossing her magazine to the side and moving her legs to allow the blonde to slump down onto the couch. Trish just sighed and laid her head back, raising her slender hands to rub at her temples.

“I have a big gala event coming up. My manager told me that I can’t go alone.”

“And?”

“He said he’ll get me a date.”

A pang of jealousy hit Jessica’s chest. “What do you mean date?”

“You know. A guy. Someone attractive and famous.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Not really.”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“ I want you to go with me.”

Jess stared at Trish, who took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Please, Jess, I’m begging. I want to be public about this. I hate the fact that every time I so much as look at a man, he’s suddenly my new mystery boyfriend and I have to hear about it all week. I want people to know about us. I hate sneaking around.”

“I--I didn’t realize you felt like that.” Jessica stammered. “I hate that too.”

“Hate what?”

“Your mystery boyfriends.” Jessica grumbled. “I’d like to wring the necks of those fucking paparazzis.”

“Don’t, Jess. You know I can’t stand long distance.”

“Where would I be going?”

“Jail?”

Jessica chuckled and pulled Trish towards herself, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“So?”

“And I think maybe we’re ready. To be public, I mean.”

“Good.”

“But I am not wearing a dress to the gala.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” Trish grinned. “You can wear a wetsuit for all I care, so long as you show up.”

* * *

The gala was hideous. Jessica knew that the instant they stepped out of the limo. The flashing of cameras and the sheer intensity of the noises around her would have been enough to make her run for her life, but Trish’s hand was in hers, and she couldn’t leave. That slight touch was more than enough to calm her.

She was wearing a simple, well-cut pantsuit which Trish had picked out for her. She was even wearing makeup, and quite the bit of it, but she looked sleek and stylish and exactly like a lesbian stereotype.

But she didn’t care, because her date looked stunning. Trish was wearing a short, form-fitting blue dress, with ample cleavage which still somehow managed to look classy instead of trashy. All Jessica really wanted to do was rip off that dress and devour every inch of skin on the blonde.

But that wasn’t for now. That was for later.

Trish led her through the crowd and into the reception hall, where there were many a million people, all dressed glamorously and all rich and famous and everything that Jessica wasn’t. She felt panic rise in her throat, but that was calmed down when Trish handed her a glass of whiskey which she’d gotten at the bar. Jessica hadn’t even noticed the bar, but was more than glad to down the amber liquid and feel it’s calming effects in her mind.

“I won’t drink too much,” she had promised Trish. “You’ll give me all that you allow me to drink. That fair?”

Trish had agreed, and after Jessica had downed that one drink to calm her nerves, she decided it was enough. Perhaps some wine at dinner was appropriate, but otherwise she didn’t need anything else.

“Trish Walker?” 

A woman, obviously a reporter, stopped them in their tracks and smiled a wide, fake smile. “Hi, I’m Ann West from Live!News. You wouldn’t have a little moment to spare, would you?”

Trish smiled and placed her hand around Jessica’s waist. “Always for you, Ann.” Jessica glanced at her girlfriend, recognizing that voice. It was the fake voice which she had honed but to perfection since childhood - though it may have sounded like Trish wanted nothing else than to be talking to this woman, Jessica knew it was the exact opposite.

“So, who’s your friend?” 

Jessica and Trish both cringed, but only Jessica showed as Trish managed to hold her disdain inside. “Well, actually, she’s my date.”

The reporter’s eyes widened slightly. “How...modern.” She stammered. Then she seemed to regain her senses. “Is this your way of coming out?”

Trish nodded. “I figured it’s too old-fashioned to announce it. Love who you love, am I right?”

“Exactly. How precious. And you two have been together for how long?”

“A few months.”

“So you’re gay now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have, as I recall, dated men in your past, yes?”

“Yes.”

“But did you always know you were gay?”

“I’m not gay.” Trish said. 

“But you have a girlfriend.”

“Yes. I’m bisexual. Write that down. You mention that, and your readers will go wild. It is, after all, preciously modern.” Trish told the woman, taking Jessica’s hand and leading her away from the reporter. Jessica could see the slight slouch in Trish’s shoulders and stopped her a little ways from the crowds.

“Trish.”

Trish trembled slightly as she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. “I’m sorry, I just-- I can’t. I--”

Jessica wrapped her arm around the blonde’s waist and pulled her closer. “Hey. None of that.”

“I feel so fucking invalidated, you know?”

“I do.”

“I don’t think this was a good idea.”

“I think it was.” Jessica whispered. “No more hiding. Let the world go fuck itself. I love you, Trish Walker. And you’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

Trish shivered as she inhaled deeply, blinking quickly to dry her eyes. “How can you be so calm?”

“Because I don’t give a fuck. I love you,” Jessica repeated, “And nothing will ever stop me from loving you. It doesn’t matter what the world thinks. And besides, that was just one crappy reporter. There are millions of crappy reporters. They don’t matter.”

“What does, then?”

“Well…” Jessica whispered, leaning in for a gentle kiss. “This.”

And just like that, Trish was calm again. Jessica had that effect on her, and vice versa - they truly made one another better.

The gala went along with only some minor bumps in the road, and they were both more than happy to decline an invitation to the afterparty and instead to climb into a limo and drive off towards home.

That night, they both worked out their frustration towards the world and that stupid gala through hours upon hours of rough, dirty, messy sex. It was only reasonable, and besides - it was what really mattered.

And then, in the morning, Trish and Jessica woke in each other’s arms, and all was well.

‘Let the world go fuck itself’  became their mantra, for they only had eyes for each other from that point on. No one got in between what they had. No one had to. None had the chance. Because even though Trish was insufferable at times and Jessica was mostly an asshole, somehow, through some miracle, they complemented one another.

And that was that.


End file.
